


love a car for the road trips

by bisexualhotchner



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:15:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22975987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisexualhotchner/pseuds/bisexualhotchner
Summary: He didn't have to ask a second time.
Relationships: Brad Colbert/Ray Person
Comments: 13
Kudos: 76





	love a car for the road trips

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to the PJFA server. ♥ thank you, Em!

He didn't ask a second time.

The sun has already disappeared from above the horizon. The skyline was a bright lilac, vibrating from gunfire and mayhem all over the country that they themselves, the so-called Iraqi Freedom Fighters have brought upon a land that might not have been called peaceful before, but at least didn't seem like it has been shaken to the very core.

Brad, gripping the handle of his saw, tipped his head up to look at the stars, and for the last time, like a corny little bitch, compared the night sky, from the most part cleared from gunfire and exhaust fumes, to the sky he could see on a normal California evening, carbon emissions making everything look fuzzy and few. Like this, he felt like he could sit down and count every star, every humongous ball of gas out there that were visible from this side of the Earth.

Instead, he pushed through the slight burn in his thighs, dragging his boots through the tall grass, approaching the furthest back building of the complex they resided in.

He knew he would find Ray there. The smell of shitty cigarettes hit him as soon as he flattened the tall grass under his feet right against the concrete of the garage-looking, cold and uninviting building. It took him a full point two seconds to find Ray crouching by the naked brick wall, chin up as he examined the spiderwebs under the roof. His neck strained in the effort to keep his head tipped up, throat and chest expanding with every inhale of the smoke.

He didn't acknowledge Brad's presence. Brad didn't greet him either. Between them, now more than anytime, words were often meaningless.

'Sorry about Rudy.' Ray huffed anyway, hurried but still genuine, as Brad knelt down by him, pulling his saw to his side and leaning back until his back hit the wall. It was uncomfortable, but it allowed him to mostly see Ray's expression from up close and stay alert.

Brad thought it was fucking stupid. Fighting on the schoolyard and apologizing through a third person like some scolded children. 'Get that to Rudy, Ray. I'm not interested.'

Ray nodded quickly, and took a long drag of his cigarette. He didn't have to ask what Brad was interested in. He didn't have to say how fucked up this war was. He didn't have to speak a goddamn syllable for Brad to know everything that has been buzzing and burning and turning and churning in that small frame, under those oversized pieces of clothing, under the too-tight skin, behind those big, dark eyes.

Brad leaned in and took his forehead to the very edge of Ray's pointy shoulder. It was especially bony and sagging under his head, but he still managed to find some balance, and when he did, he breathed out, slow and dragging, and closed his eyes. Being this close, being able to understand, to know was enough. Enough for him to know they will be alright.

Ray was a force of nature, and Brad should’ve found him disruptive.

He was loud, unnecessarily so. He always tried to make himself be heard through volume and mass of words, which Brad should’ve found pathetic and lowly, but he still caught himself listening to the meaningless rambling and the obnoxious comments.

Obviously, Ray was also frugal, he had chipped teeth and ugly tattoos, he was scrawny and fought dirty, he had no regards for others, but mostly, Ray was demanding. He always needed attention, and if Brad was too busy or uncaring to give it to him undivided, Ray wandered off to get it elsewhere. He was hanging around other teams, listening to Rudy tell half of Bravo company how to achieve inner peace, or some disgusting fucking sexual shit Chaffin had thought up to stimulate the animal part of the men’s brain until he himself got an opportunity to speak up and take over.

But for some messed up reason, Brad had decided to stick with him. He laid his claim on him, whispered in kisses along his spine and harsh marks on his inner thighs. And the Iceman did a lot of things, but he did not share what was his – he had once told Ray this, and he laughed at him until Brad fucked him speechless, then laughed at him some more – so what he did was give him the undivided attention that Ray had needed.

Which wasn’t a lot. Ray was not as demanding as Brad had first assumed: Ray was mostly content just being together wherever, in the Humvee or at home, digging graves by each other and crossing their arms in way too many layers of clothing in the cold desert evening.

The problem wasn’t the attention; it was Brad’s privacy being invaded again. Ever since his fiancée had left him, Brad was trying to get accustomed to being a loner again. Going surfing alone, going swimming alone, riding his bike for hours on end, existing in his own place in quiet solitude. It was fulfilling, and it had been enough for Brad for years.

Doing this, being like this, was too much. He felt panicked, his heart beating out of his chest as he softly nipped a line down Ray’s neck, tasting grass and sweat and soil. He pulled the strap of his gun over his shoulder, setting it aside, sneaking his arms around Ray’s middle. He kissed under the soft hair on his nape, tasted dust, pulling out the hem of his shirt from where it was tucked into his combat gear, sneaking his fingers under and holding onto his skinny waist.

He felt panicked, because he was afraid it would be over soon. Ray would decide that being gay wasn’t for him – that _Brad_ wasn’t for him after all, or someone would find out and they would be kicked out for sure, but probably even beaten up beforehand. The next minute a grenade could go off and take one of them from the other, or in the best case scenario, take them both out at the same time, so none of them should get used to the thought of living without the other.

Brad’s grip tightened on Ray’s hipbone, hearing his breath hitch in his throat, feeling the elaborate roll of his hips against his forearm. He bit his way along his collarbone, the tension easing out of him as slowly and tentatively as Ray sneaked his arm around him, pushing his crooked fingers and dirty nails through his short hair. Brad reveled in it, in the fleeting feeling of being wanted back, as he grabbed one of Ray’s thighs and maneuvered him into the wall, crowding up into his space, taking him into his lap, feeling him, touching him.

And then, right before he would have delved into his mouth with a biting kiss, Ray took a shuddering breath and started sobbing. Just like that – no mouthing off, no apologizing, nothing. The weight the war, the weight of being the witness suddenly crushing into him, bruising him, threatening to destroy him.

Even if Brad was feeling panicked, he still sat back on the heels of his boots, pulling Ray on top of him, hugging him tight to his chest, because this Ray was his Ray too, and he was willing to take the weight of everything for him.

**Author's Note:**

> this was a v quick one and I apologize for any mistakes. comments n kudos are always appreciated!!  
> find me over at tumblr as love--some


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